


What We Lost In The Fire, We'll Find In The Ashes

by Krit



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krit/pseuds/Krit
Summary: Snippets from Goody and Billy's life together, and the friends they made along the way.I changed the title.





	1. Chapter 1

_Head down. Look at the floor. Don’t make a sound. Mama said be good. This man paid good money. Do what you’re told. Don’t struggle. Don’t cry. Even when it hurts. Unless they want you to cry. Do what you’re told. Clench your twitching fingers in the sheets. Mama said be good. These men pay good money._

~*~

Billy bolted up, and scanned his surroundings. It was pitch dark. He was drenched in sweat. One of his knives was in his hand. He was sitting on a bedroll in the sand. The campfire had burned out. Goodnight was asleep next to him. Billy put his knife away and reached over to touch his lover’s wrist. Goody was muttering under his breath. High pitched and wheezing.

“Goody.” Billy whispered as he curled up behind him. Goodnight let out a keening noise like a wounded animal as he shook in Billy’s arms. “It’s okay Goody. We’re okay.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Any takers?”

“Nothing.” Goodnight sighed and guided his horse next to Billy. “No quick draws. No card games. Not even a single bounty warrant. No job opportunities in sight.”

“The crime rate is going down. Bastards.” Billy deadpanned.

“Laugh while you can. We don’t have enough money for food, let alone a room, or stable for the horses.”

“We can manage something. We always do.”

“All either of us are good for is violence, and I’m not even good at that anymore.” Goody shook his head as Billy’s fingers tightened on his horse’s reigns.

“That’s not... really true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have... Other talents.” Billy stared straight ahead and headed towards the saloon. “Follow me.” They hitched the horses outside and headed in, Billy making for a table at the far back corner of the room. He watched the patrons carefully for almost an hour before pointing at one of them. “That one.” The man was sitting alone at the bar, his eyes drifting over some of the other men before quickly turning back to his third drink. “He’ll pay good money.”

“For what?” Goodnight still had no idea what Billy was on about.

“For me.” Billy sighed. “They’re easy to spot after a while.”

“You...” Goodnight’s jaw dropped and he shook his head. “You said you used to be a hit man.”

“Assassin. I started when I was seventeen. Before that... You do what you can to survive.”

“Before- Wha- How old were you when you started?”

Billy shrugged, still staring at the man at the bar, pointedly not looking at Goodnight. “Don’t know. My mother...” He sighed. “Does it matter?”

Goodnight reached over and took Billy’s hand in his, squeezing gently. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, I won’t make you. But I also can’t make you do this.”

Billy finally turned and stared Goodnight in the eye, clear and determined. “You’re not making me do anything. My mother died when I was twelve. After that, I took care of myself. It was always my choice and my terms. It’s different.”

“Billy...”

“Goody.” Billy squeezed his hand back. “We’re out of money. I have a skill we can use. No different than usual.”

“It’s different. But if you’re sure...”

“Are you... Are you jealous?” The corner of Billy’s mouth curled slightly.

“Can’t say I’m over the moon at the thought of some dirty hick getting his grubby hands all over ya. But no. I’m just worried about you. Can I... I wanna stay with you. Keep watch. Make sure he doesn’t try anything funny.”

Billy let out a quiet chuckle and nodded before walking over to the bar. He sat next to his target and leaned over, murmuring something in his ear. The man blushed and clutched his glass. Billy smiled sweetly and placed his hand on the bar, his fingers not quite touching the other man’s arm. Goodnight couldn’t hear their conversation, but he saw the man start to relax, the tension bleeding out of him as Billy spoke. They went on for a few minutes before heading outside. Goodnight followed them, unnoticed by the mark until they reached the back alley.

“Who’s this?” The man stuttered as he handed Billy a folded wad of money.

“My bodyguard.” Billy deadpanned, already reaching for the man’s belt. “Don’t worry about him. Look at me.” He slid to his knees and pulled out the man’s cock, stroking it to full hardness. He waited until he caught the man’s eyes before swallowing him down whole. It didn’t take long. But time seemed to slow for Goodnight. He had never seen Billy sucking cock from this angle before. The way the muscles of his neck moved. The arch of his back. He was beautiful. When the other man finished, Goodnight felt a swell of smugness at the way Billy spit into the dirt. Billy always swallowed with him. The man did up his pants and darted off before Billy was even standing again.

“Your bodyguard, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” Billy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “My big strong protector. Keeping me safe.” He gave him a genuine smile before taking his arm and leading him back to the saloon. "We’ve got plenty of money for the next few weeks. Lets get something to eat.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Goodnight woke before the sun had quite started rising. Billy was still sound asleep next to him. His hair was tangled over the pillows and across his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his fingers clutched the sheets tightly.

“Billy?” Goodnight murmured, pushing his hair out of his face. “Billy baby. Rise and shine mon cher.” He squeezed Billy’s shoulder and suddenly found himself flat on his back on the floor. Billy was on top of him, pinning him down with a dagger pressed to his throat. “Bill-” Goodnight choked out. “Billy, it’s me.” Billy’s eyes were glazed and unfocused as he muttered something sharply in Korean. “Come back to me darlin.” He said a little louder. “Je t’aime mon cher. Wake up.” Billy finally relaxed his grip, pulling the knife away.

“Goody?” He murmured. He looked lost as he sat up, his eyes darting over the room. “What-?” Goodnight sat up, keeping Billy in his lap, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close.

“I think you had a nightmare.” He pet Billy’s hair and felt his lover melt against him.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You take care of mine all the time.”

“You’ve never attacked me.”

“Really? That shiner you had last month begs to differ.”

“That was different. You accidentally hit me while you were flailing. This...”

“Why didn’t you tell me you have nightmares too?”

“They’ve never been a problem before.”

“Is this because of last night?” Goodnight whispered.

“No. No. It was no worse than usual.”

“Usual? How often do you have them?” Goodnight leaned back and caught Billy’s chin in his hand. Billy shrugged and tried to look away. “Alright darlin.” Goodnight kissed him softly. “Your hair is a mess. Want me to comb it out for you?” Billy nodded and stood, pulling Goodnight with him. He sat at the vanity table and lit a cigarette as he let Goodnight comb out all the knots and tangles until his hair was soft and silky. “There we go.” Goodnight pulled Billy’s hair into a messy bun on top of his head. He could never get it as elegant as Billy did, but it still looked beautiful and held his pin knives perfectly. He rubbed Billy’s shoulders and kissed the side of his head. “Time for breakfast?” Billy nodded and handed Goodnight the rest of the cigarette.

“Thank you love.” Billy murmured in Korean.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After breakfast, Billy seemed back to normal, so Goodnight let it go. Billy wasn’t big on sharing his personal history, and Goodnight understood that all too well. After about the third time Billy winced at the cut on Goodnight’s neck, he tied on an ascot and that was the end of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here. Have almost 2,000 words of hurt/comfort bdsm porn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT correct bdsm etiquette. This is the 1800s. 
> 
> ALWAYS discuss new ideas with your partner BEFORE trying them in the bedroom.  
> NEVER drink or do drugs if you're going to be engaging in kink activities.  
> ALWAYS have safety and medical precautions in place when engaging in kink activities.
> 
> Thank you.

Billy’s fingers twitched and clenched as he scanned the camp site for something to do. His knives and guns were cleaned and polished. Both cigarette cases were filled. Everything was organized in their packs. The horses were fed and tended to. The still and the quiet that was usually so comforting was becoming suffocating. He hadn’t even noticed he was cracking his knuckles until Goodnight stepped up to him and placed his hands over his.

“You getting restless darlin?” He leaned down and kissed Billy gently, nipping at his bottom lip. “You all riled up?” Billy shivered and leaned against him.

“Please Goody.” Billy growled as Goodnight pulled his face away.

“Ask nice.”

Billy pressed his lips to Goodnight’s neck, nipping at the soft thin skin there. Thoughts ran through his head. How much pressure it would take to bite through. To taste blood. He bit harder. Not too hard. Never too hard. Not with Goodnight. But just hard enough to make the other man let out a short yelp.

“Please Goody.” He licked the bite mark. “Please fuck me.” He pressed a kiss below his ear. “Wear me out.” He rolled their hips together. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Oh, I’ll show you.” Goodnight chuckled and tangled his fingers in Billy’s hair, dragging him down on the bedrolls. He didn’t bother getting them both undressed. Just undid their pants and grabbed the tin of slick from his pack. He pulled Billy’s pants down just over the swell of his ass. “So beautiful.” He murmured, sliding two slick fingers inside of Billy, smiling at the rough shout he got in response. “Look at you.” His free hand found its way back to Billy’s hair, pulling hard enough to tug his head back as he fucked him roughly with his fingers. “Such a greedy little whore.” They’d had a long talk after Goodnight found out about Billy’s... job history. Goodnight had used that word with him before and Billy always seemed to love it. But he wanted to be sure before using it again. Billy had assured him - and rather thoroughly - that if Goodnight ever did or said anything Billy didn’t like, Goodnight would be the first to know about it. Due to the blood. And the pain. As it was, Billy seemed as riled up as ever at Goodnight’s words. His actions probably had a bit to do with it as well. Once he’d stretched him enough not to damage either of them, Goodnight slicked himself up and pressed against him. “Ask.”

Billy growled low in his throat and clawed at Goodnight’s shoulders.

“Fuck! Goody! Please!” He rocked his hips. “Fuck me, please, I need it, I need you-” Goodnight cut him off with a rough kiss that was more teeth than tongue and slammed inside, swallowing Billy’s cries.

Billy’s head was swimming. All his energy and focus zeroed in on Goodnight’s thick cock inside of him, slamming just on the right edge of painful. Dragging over the sweet spot inside him. The breathy moans of his lover above him. Billy let out a broken groan as Goodnight’s palm slapped sharply over his ass. He reached down and squeezed Goody’s wrist.

“You sure baby?” Goodnight whispered, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Billy’s throat. Billy squeezed again and stared up into his eyes. Goodnight shifted on his knees and tightened his grip. Billy’s eyes rolled back as he became lightheaded. Everything that wasn’t Goodnight floating away from him. “That’s it darlin. That’s what you needed, wasn’t it? My sweet little slut. You just need to be put in your place. Not going anywhere. I’ve got you. Let go baby.” Billy shuddered, surrendering everything he had. Letting himself relax under Goodnight’s grip. His hands holding him in place as his thrusts sped up. Billy’s hands slid under Goodnight’s shirt, his nails dragging across his back, spurring him on harder and faster.

By the time they had finished, they were both so worn out, all they could do was cling to each other.

“Love you so much.” Goodnight murmured, pressing kisses to Billy’s forehead as he rubbed the soreness away from where he gripped his hair.

“Love you Goody. Thank you.” Billy’s fingers traced lazily over the light welts they’d left on his lover’s back. Goodnight healed quick, they’d be gone by nightfall.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

They were in shabby little dust town when Goodnight heard it again. The owl following behind him. Watching him. Reminding him of his sins. Telling him his fate. His punishment. Billy saw him glancing over his shoulder during his quick draw. No one else saw him flinch as the guns went off. But Billy did. He caught his eye as Goodnight began collecting their winnings and received the slightest of nods in reply. That night, Billy placed a gentle grip on the back of Goodnight’s neck and led him up to their room.

“Put the money away and get undressed.” Billy ordered quietly, locking the door. Goodnight did as he was told and stood next to the bed, facing Billy. The tension was already starting to seep out of his shoulders, but his hands were still shaking. “Strip.” Billy smiled as he watched him. “Good boy. So good for me.” Billy lit a freshly rolled cigarette and pressed it to Goodnight’s lips. His eyes rolled back slightly as the opium flowed into his system. Billy ran his hands over the freshly exposed skin, slowly and gently, as if calming a spooked horse. “Always so good. I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Billy grabbed the rope from their bags and tied it firmly around Goodnight’s wrists. “Look at me.” Billy kissed him softly and pushed him back onto the bed. “Are you gonna be good for me?”

“Yes.” He whispered, staring at Billy in desperation, like a drowning man begging to be saved.

“Yes what?” Billy stroked Goodnight’s hair.

“Yes sir.”

“Good boy.” Billy gave him another drag of the cigarette before putting it in the ashtray and maneuvering him onto his stomach, securing the rope to the headboard. “So beautiful.” He whispered, pressing kisses along his shoulders. “My beautiful strong man. So sweet. So brave.” Goodnight made a choked sound like he wanted to argue, but Billy shushed him, petting his back, gently but firmly. “Nobody’s opinion matters but mine. Not yours. Not your parents. Not that damned owl. Nobody.”

Billy sealed endearments and encouragement into Goodnight’s skin with gentle kisses and touches. He massaged the knots from his shoulders, rubbed the pain from his back, and drifted his hands and mouth lower until he heard Goodnight’s quiet breathy gasps.

“I’ve got you Goody.” He murmured, stretching him slowly. “Relax for me. Good boy.”

By the time Billy finally slid into him, Goodnight was a melted mess of babbled French and high pitched moans.

“That’s it. Let me hear you. You feel so good.” Billy pressed his body down on top of Goodnight’s and pressed his face to the side of his neck. He felt his lover try to push back, and pressed against him harder. “I’ve got you.” He rolled his hips slowly, dragging as many noises and foreign curses out of him as possible. Drawing out every move and every pleasure.

Goodnight shuddered beneath him. Everything was Billy. The feel of his skin. The weight of him holding him down. Keeping him anchored. Keeping him safe. His breath on his neck. In his ear. Heat. Love. Around him. Inside of him. Nothing to do but take what he was given. No choices to make. No owl whispering in his ear. Just Billy’s grunts of pleasure and words of love.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sometimes it wasn’t so easy. Sometimes The voices wouldn’t be quiet. The dead demanded justice. The blood on his hands couldn’t be wiped away. On those days, Goodnight couldn’t hide. His face would crumble. His eyes dark and haunted. His steps sluggish and stumbling. Nothing would work. Alcohol. Opium. Sex. None of it. Billy did what he could to keep him afloat. But he was drowning. Condemned and damned by his own hands.

They were passing through an old pasture. The fencing dismantled and untended, its owners long moved on. There was no one and nothing for miles.

“We’re camping here.” Billy said suddenly. Goodnight didn’t respond. Just dismounted and began setting up camp. His movements were automatic. His body acting with out his mind. Using instinct alone. Once they were set for the night, Billy grabbed what he needed and took Goodnight by the back of his neck. Neither of them said a word as he led him over to a section of fencing that looked like it probably wouldn’t collapse. “Strip from the waist up and get on your knees facing the posts.” Goodnight still didn’t respond, just did as he was told. Once he was in position, Billy tied his wrists to the fence. “You’re going to confess your sins. And I’m going to punish you. Do you understand?” Goodnight nodded slightly and Billy grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. “Answer me.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.” Billy pressed Goodnight’s forehead back against the post and took a step back. He looped the leather belt in his hands and clenched his fist around the buckle. “Now,” He took a deep breath and centered himself, mentally preparing for what he was about to do. “How many people have you killed?”

“I don’t know.” Goodnight whispered.

“Estimate.”

“Maybe two hundred?”

“Then let’s make it twenty.” Billy swallowed and took another deep breath before bringing the belt down across Goodnight’s back. It was nowhere near as hard as he could. But they were just getting started. For each sin Goodnight confessed, Billy calculated an appropriate number of strikes, adding them together in his head. The blows gradually harder until Billy determined they were near the end. Goodnight’s back was red and purple, covered in welts. “Are you sorry?”

“Yes sir.” Goodnight choked out. Billy brought the belt down again.

“Say it.”

“I’m sorry.” Harder this time.

“Again.”

“I’m sorry!” Billy put his full strength behind a long strike across Goodnight’s back. “I’m so sorry!” Goodnight sobbed as Billy dropped the belt and began to untie him. Goodnight repeated his apologies over and over like a mantra, crying loudly and unashamedly as Billy pulled him into his arms.

“You’re forgiven.” Billy told him, holding him close and kissing his face, his own eyes threatening to spill over with tears. “You’re forgiven.”

~*~

Neither of them said more than that until the next morning.

“Goody... I-”

“We should get a whip.”

“What?”

“A whip. A good one. For next time.” Goodnight smiled softly, putting Billy’s worries mostly at ease. “Thank you.” He whispered, pulling Billy to him and kissing him deeply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what this chapter is.

Billy lit a cigarette and wondered out onto the porch of the Saloon. Red Harvest was sitting on the steps, staring at the stars.

“You speak English.” It wasn’t a question. Billy sat next to him and looked up as well. “I won’t say anything. I get it.”

Red Harvest shrugged. “Some.”

Billy nodded and smiled. They sat in silence a while. Watching the sky as the clouds moved and the moon set. They were still a little pumped up from their opening skirmish that afternoon.

“Why _do_ your people bury their dead above the ground anyway?”

“The birds.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“Why did you come here?”

“I wanted to help. Goody wanted to help.”

“No. Not... You left home.”

“Oh.” Billy sighed and flicked away the stubbed paper from his cigarette. “I wanted... A fresh start... Redemption.”

Red Harvest nodded. “You are... Not who you wanted.” Not a question.

“You know a thing or two about that?” A shrug. Billy nodded in reply. “So. What did you really say tonight during dinner?”

“White people’s food is for dogs.”

Billy let out such a forceful laugh that he fell down the steps.

“That is true my friend. That is true.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“I was at Antietam.”

Goodnight’s head snapped up so fast, he nearly got whiplash. Faraday was staring at him. Something cold and angry behind his eyes.

“How old were you? Couldn’t’ve been more than-”

“Twenty. I saw you after the battle. From a distance. Heard what they were saying about you. What you did.” He shook his head. “Was any of it true?”

“What do you want from me, son?”

“I respected you. Admired you. You were a hero. A legend.” Faraday’s voice shook and he took another swig of his bottle. “You made me proud to fight. I didn’t care about the war. The politics. The bullshit. I was poor Irish trash from Nowhere Virginia, I didn’t have a horse in that race. But everyone was joining up, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But you. You made me think- Fuck, I don’t know.” He stood up and tossed his empty bottle back on the table. “You were my hero.” He muttered, before heading up to his room.

Goodnight shuddered, rubbing his face with his hands. Billy had gone outside. Sam was already asleep. He was alone with his regrets.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Billy made his way up to their room, Goodnight was sitting on the bed, staring at nothing. Billy knew that look.

“Counting the dead again?” He put his gear away and began to undress.

“You really think it exists?”

“What’s that, Goody?”

“Redemption. You think there’s such a thing for men like us?”

Billy sighed and let his hair down. He never had an answer for that one. “I don’t know Goody.” He climbed onto the bed and pulled Goodnight into his arms. “It’s worth trying either way.”

They sat in silence for a while. Wrapped in each other. Momentarily safe from everything outside the little room.

“You were beautiful today.” Goodnight whispered. “I saw you dodge that asshole’s bullets and then pin him to the porch. I always love watching you. Even if I can’t... I...”

Billy took his hand and kissed his knuckles.

“It’s time to sleep Goody.”

“Goodnight Billy.”

“Billy Goodnight.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Goodnight’s eye was twitching all through lunch. Billy had caught the end half of his training session with the townsfolk. His slip back into his wartime persona. Faraday’s goading. Ten perfect headshots in a row. He could practically hear the gears turning in Goodnight’s head. See the steam coming out of his ears.

“So. I’m curious. What exactly is a craw? And how does one go about getting gravel into it?”

Goodnight’s head shot up and his jaw dropped. He stared at Billy before his lips turned upwards and he leaned back in his chair.

“Well that’s a mighty fine question Billy goat. But I’ve got a more pressing one for you. How exactly did it feel to have everyone walk out on _your_ training lesson?”

Billy nodded slowly and seemed to think for a moment before reaching out and upturning Goodnight’s chair, depositing him on the floor in a thud.

“Something like that.”

They both burst out laughing.

“Do I even wanna know?”

They looked up to see Sam staring at them with a look of exasperated amusement on his face. It only made them laugh harder.

 

~*~

 

Up in their room, Billy had Goodnight stripped down and bound spread eagle on the bed. He couldn’t move an inch. Didn’t want to.

“You were so good today.” Billy sat on his lap, leisurely rocking his hips, fucking himself on Goodnight’s cock at a lazy pace. “So patient. So strong.” He traced his fingernails up and down Goodnight’s chest, scratching at the patch of hair before moving down and rubbing his belly. A twist of his hips had Goodnight let out a shout that resulted in a rather annoyed knock on the wall from the room next to theirs. Not one for reprimands, Billy sped up his pace, pulling more noises from his lover.

 

~*~

 

“Un. Be. Fucking. Lievable.” Faraday grumbled. “They’re doing it on purpose now.”

“Calm down Guero. If anyone needs to blow off steam, it’s those two.” Vasquez didn’t even look up from his book, sprawled in a chair by the window, completely unfazed by what was occurring. Well. Almost completely. Faraday eyed the bulge in the other man’s pants and smirked.

“You know. We could give em a taste of their own medicine.” He plucked the book from Vasquez’s hands and knelt between his legs. Vasquez chuckled and undid his pants. He let out a small gasp as Faraday’s tongue flicked over the head on his cock. “Come on, we’re doing this for a reason. Don’t hold back.” Vasquez huffed out a laugh and gripped Faraday’s hair, pulling his head forward. Faraday would’ve choked if he hadn’t gotten rid of his gag reflex years ago. As it was, he dug his fingers into the legs of the chair and held on for the ride as Vasquez fucked his mouth. The other man’s moans became louder, punctuated with slightly exaggerated Spanish cursing. The men on the other side of the wall refused to be outdone. Their own noises getting louder until there was a definite competition going on. They never determined who won, but if asked, Faraday would claim that they all did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have 1k of fluff.

“You little shit! We got a lot to talk about!” Jack followed Red Harvest into the saloon. Most of the townsfolk were either at the prayer sermon or already asleep. They sat across from each other at the table and Red Harvest dug into the plate Sam set in front of him.

“You know, we have this thing. This thing we do, our people, called confession. You ever heard of it?” Red Harvest shook his head. “Well, the idea is, you tell someone your sins, and God forgives you. Now, I ain’t lookin for forgiveness. Don’t expect it from you. Hell, I got no right to so much as ask for it. But I’d like to... That is... You should know. I respect you. As a warrior. As a man. I’m honored to fight along side you, and I’ll be honored to die along side you tomorrow. But you should know.” Jack took a deep breath and stared at the table. “I killed your kind. At least three hundred. Mostly for money. Also because I believed the shit people said about y’all. Did it without remorse for... For a long time.”

“What changed?” Red Harvest had stopped eating, and was looking at Jack with a curious expression on his face.

“I... I lost my family. My wife. My son. My little girl. They were sick. I didn’t even know. I came home and... After that, I... I tried to go back out. But when I saw my target, I... He was young. And I thought of my son.”

“You found out we were people.”

Jack let out a bitter laugh. “Yes, I suppose that’s right.”

Red Harvest nodded slightly and finished his dinner. When he was finished, he got up and moved over to where Jack sat. The older man tensed, but didn’t move from his spot. He simply bowed his head and closed his eyes. He jumped slightly when Red Harvest placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It is not my job to forgive you. That is the job of your god and the people you killed. You have been good to me. You have fought by my side. You have protected good people.” He squeezed Jack’s shoulder. “I do not hate you.”

Jack let out a shaky breath and looked up at him. “You are a better man than I.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Jack awoke on a soft bed, his body sore and stiff, and someone dabbing his forehead with a cloth.

“Good morning.” Jack opened his eyes to see Red Harvest sitting next to him. “You slept five days. We were getting worried. Good thing that cabron was a bad shot. Missed your heart.”

“You picking up bad words from Vasquez now?” Jack chuckled weakly.

“I like it.” Red Harvest smiled, but it faded slowly. “You had fever. We thought. Last night. It was bad.”

“I’m okay kid. We lose anyone? I mean... Our group?”

“Almost. Maybe still. Billy, Goodnight, Faraday, all still asleep. Maybe they make it. Maybe not.” He continued wiping the sweat from Jack’s face.

 

~*~

 

A week later, and Jack was allowed out of bed. Billy and Goodnight were awake and subjected to Sam’s fussing over them like an over protective father. Faraday was still asleep, but his wounds were healing well. Vasquez barely left his side.

Jack was sitting on the porch steps of the saloon, telling bible stories to the town’s children when Red Harvest came out and sat beside him.

“Do you want to hear some of my stories?”

The children looked up at him in awe, and all nodded with open mouths and wide eyes. Red Harvest then began telling them the stories and fables of his people. History and religion. He taught them about his culture. Why and how they did things. Each child listened with rapt attention, not even noticing when the sun began to set. When the first parents came to gather them for bed, they were met with moans of disappointment, and pleas to be allowed to stay. When all the children had been gathered and tucked away in bed, Red Harvest leaned against Jack’s shoulder.

“I think they liked my stories.” He mumbled around a yawn.

“You’re a good story teller.”

“My mother... She is...” He fumbled for the words to explain in English. “She tells stories. Keeps our ways. Teaches the children. She is teacher. Preacher.” He yawned again, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder.

“She sounds like a good woman.” Jack wrapped an arm around him. “You might wanna get to bed.”

“Want to look at the stars.” He mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed. Jack chuckled and held the younger man close, letting him sleep under the night sky.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“It’s fall.”

“That’s a mighty fine observation there, Red.” Faraday drawled from his seat. He was covered in burn scars and had lost half his hearing, which did terrible things to his volume control, but he was alive. His wounds had healed, and he was almost walking normally again, but Vasquez was still playing nurse maid. “Hey, Goody! How many silly-bulls is that?”

“Four. Well done. Now, Red, is there some particular reason for you bringing up the season?” Red Harvest shrugged.

“I was born in the fall.”

The table erupted in noise.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Is it soon? Is it now?”

“We gotta have a party!”

“Wait, how old are you even turning?”

Red grinned, blushing slightly. “I was born at the end of the harvest. I’ll be...” He counted quickly in his head. “Eighteen.”

The table erupted again.

 

~*~

 

Red Harvest didn’t want a big fuss over him, but agreed to allow a celebration of his birthday to coincide with the town’s harvest festival. There were decorations, and games, and Leni baked a cake just for him. Her daughter must have helped judging from the tiny handprint in the corner.

His friends insisted on giving him gifts. A new pistol from Vasquez. A deck of cards from Faraday. A bottle of fancy whiskey from Goodnight. A set of throwing knives from Billy. Both Sam and Emma got him books. Jack gave him a new quiver. Twice the size of his old one, with a soft leather strap.

“Leni helped to make it.”

“It’s beautiful.” Red hugged him tightly. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just have so many thoughts and ideas about these boys.


End file.
